


buried beneath the fountain of youth

by Like_A_Dove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blood and Violence, Crush at First Sight, F/M, Rey makes Ben bad at his job, a story in which Rey is consistently exasperated by how hot yet dumb she finds Ben, gather 'round children it's time for another episode of 'Ben Solo Struggles at Being Good', in which the author makes up a bunch of stuff and calls it mythology, some angst but honestly? SO much fluff, vampire hunter Ben Solo, vampire rey, vampire sex because the author is trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 06:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17177450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_A_Dove/pseuds/Like_A_Dove
Summary: Then the last vampire tilts up her head andshit, he should have known that of course things wouldn’t be this easy.Because Ben knows this girl.He lowers his gun.ORBig bad vampire hunter Ben hides Rey, a newborn vampire, from his boss.





	buried beneath the fountain of youth

Ben Solo is hungry.

There hadn’t been time for lunch; Phasma had seen to that when she’d called earlier that afternoon claiming to have six vamps waiting for him down by their usual spot. And Ben had skipped breakfast, although that was his own fault. He’d drunk too much the night before and slept through his alarm.

So, Ben Solo is hungry.

The shot rings loud in the tiny little one room cabin. But Ben doesn’t flinch. There’s a stench in the air, of blood and piss and fear. Fear most potent of all. But Ben doesn’t flinch at that either.

He’d stopped flinching at terrible things a long time ago.

Hux, however, is not fairing as well. He gags, bending double and dry heaving. Phasma, standing in the corner and slightly blood splattered, gives him a look of sheer revulsion.

Hux gags again and Ben turns towards the final one. The final vamp. She’s been oddly quiet throughout this whole ordeal. She hasn’t moved a muscle since Phasma lined her and the others up along the wall and forced them down onto their knees. She hasn’t bothered to wipe at the blood coating her right side either, curtesy of her fallen vamp comrades.

She just sits there, head tilted toward the floor, as if she’s entirely at peace with her situation. It’s a rare sight; vamps normally don’t do this sort of thing before eminent death. Normally they scream, beg, shit themselves, offer up money or their own bodies; vamps will do anything to survive. But Ben has always prided himself in being not only efficient at his job but also not easily moved, an essential trait for his profession. Even still, he’s glad she’s not putting up much of a fight. It’s a relief, in a way.

Ben’s stomach rumbles but he ignores it, instead lifting and aiming his pistol. One more wooden bullet and he’s done. He’ll be eating dinner within the hour.

Then the last vamp tilts up her head and _shit_ , he should have known that of course things wouldn’t be this easy.

Because Ben knows this girl.

**  
**TWO DAYS EARLIER**  
**

Ben throws his cash down onto the countertop, jaw clenching in irritation. The girl on the other side reaches for his money, looking about as exhausted as he feels. She looks a little young to be managing a gas station on her own at four in the morning, but Ben is too irritated to care.

“Thirty-five on pump five,” he snaps. “And you’re fucking, uh, card slot or whatever is broken. I must have spent _ten fucking minutes_ trying to fiddle with it. You should _really_ have sign out there that says, ‘I’m a useless shit machine that doesn’t _fucking work!_ ’.” He heaves a breath because all his anger and agitation from his terrible, garbage night is weighing on him—not catching Dameron, Snoke’s fury at him for not catching Dameron, Hux worming back into Ben’s every day work life. It all comes boiling up to the surface, blistering and overwhelming and ugly. He spews it out at this poor cashier, who’s only sin towards him is working at this shitty gas station.

She takes it surprisingly well. Actually, she takes in his whole rant without even blinking, looking entirely undaunted. “There _is_ a sign.”

“Excuse me?”

She frowns at Ben in a way that actually makes him feel self-conscious; he finds himself standing up a little straighter under her sharp hazel gaze.

“I said,” she repeats herself slowly, as if he’s a confused child, “that there _is_ a sign.”

“No, there isn’t.”

“I wrote it out and taped it on the pump myself, sir. So, there is definitely a sign.”

“I would have seen one.” Because Ben absolutely would have noticed something like that. He isn’t dense, just fucking tired.

The cashier (and Ben notes with irritation that she isn’t wearing a nametag) is clearly hiding the beginnings of a smirk. “If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to go back outside and check for yourself.” And then she _does_ smirk. “If there isn’t one… I’ll let you fill up your tank for free.”

Ben scoffs. Is this girl challenging him? If this were any other day, if Ben were in any other mood, he’d have her job for this sort of back talking bullshit. But tonight, tonight he’s marches right back outside, phone already out in hand so he can take a picture of the most-definitely-sign-less-pump-number-five. He’ll get a full tank on the house and maybe he’ll even buy a six pack to celebrate—

Ben pauses in front of the pump.

There’s absolutely a fucking sign. In fact, Ben isn’t sure how the hell he missed it beforehand. It’s taped up right next to the card slot and pen pad. CASH ONLY, it reads in large, girly handwriting. SEE CASHIER TO PAY. There’s even an overtly colorful smiley face drawn in the corner.

When he drags himself back inside he expects to find the cashier holding back a smile, expects her to keep it somewhat professional even though she essentially just handed him his ass. Instead she’s flashing him a shit eating grin, leaning against the counter with her head propped in her hand. The girl watches with absolute glee as Ben begrudgingly grabs a bottle of water out of the mini fridge near the front, determined to avoid eye contact with her for as long as possible. He then forces himself to walk back up to her.

She straightens up, expression playful. It disarms him, somehow. People aren’t normally playful around Ben Solo.

“So, that’s thirty-five on pump five?” She’s smiling and holding his almost forgotten payment expectantly.

He nods. And then very abruptly thinks to himself that she has a nice smile. Actually, now that he’s getting a moment to have a proper look at her, she has a nice _everything_. The girl counts his cash with rainbow painted fingertips and Ben finds himself glad he didn’t come storming back in here, raging and shouting through his defeat.

He would’ve missed her smile if he had. He clears his throat, puts the bottle of water and a bag of Skittles he’s swiped onto the countertop so that he can pay for them as well. Then he sighs. “The sign was there,” he admits.

The cashier girl giggles and it _does things_ to him. Fuck, he’s too old for this sort of shit. Way, _way_ too old. She nods, cheeks pink as she counts out his change and hands it over to him.

The girl bites her lip. “For what it’s worth,” she purposely brushes her fingers against his own. “The grumpy look works on you. But I bet your smile is even better.” And then she winks.

Ben freezes because…well she just kind of hit on him a little bit, didn’t she? And she’d inadvertently asked to see his smile. And she’d _winked_. No one ever does these sorts of things to him.

He almost does smile for her. But something stops him. There’s too much that’s still dead inside of him, maybe. And this lovely cashier, if she knew the sort of dealings he’s involved in, she wouldn’t be asking to see his smile. So, best not to even try, best not to let her think that Ben Solo is the kind of man that he absolutely isn’t.

Her smile dwindles slightly at his unchanging stoic expression, but it still never leaves her face.

It’s technically time for him to leave; she’s handed him his change and it’s so late and he’s so tired. But he can’t bring himself to leave her presence just yet.

He gestures vaguely in her direction. “Aren’t you a little young to be running this place by yourself?” More concern has leaked into his voice then he realizes. “It’s not safe.”

The girl’s smile disappears completely, although her eyes remain soft. “I can take care of myself,” she assures him.

He quirks a dark eyebrow, not needing to speak to get his question across.

And she doesn’t need to speak to answer him. She ducks under the counter and pops back up clutching a goddamn _shotgun_ , which looks entirely too ridiculous in her small, rainbow fingernailed hands. She gives him an extremely pointed look before bending back down and tucking her weapon away in its hiding spot.

Ben blinks down at her. “Holy shit.” Of course, he’s packing himself as always but _still_ —

“Not that I’ve ever had any reason to use it,” she says, propping an elbow onto the countertop and leaning into her hand again. Some of her good humor is beginning to creep back into her face, which pleases him.

Ben grabs his change and water bottle. “Well, if anyone does give you a reason to use it, don’t hesitate to blow them in half with that thing.”

Her eyes widen, and that good humor vanishes once again. Because of him. “I suspect that’s easier said than done,” she mutters.

He’s blunt with his response. “Not really.”

She recoils a little. There’s a slight sinking feeling in Ben’s stomach and he braces himself for her newfound fear. This typically happens when he says things like that, things that are all together too horrible and too honest. She openly sizes him up as if she’s doing it for the first time, looking more alert then he’s seen her all night. But, to his genuine surprise, there is no true fear in the way her gaze roams over him. Only ever-growing interest.

He begins backing toward the front entrance, memorizing her image and filing every visible part of her away. He’ll need to remember this particular gas station. He travels through this area quite a bit, especially now that Dameron and his coven have taken up residence somewhere nearby.

She grabs the Skittles he’s left behind in confusion and holds them out to him. “Uh, you’re forgetting your candy.”

Ben still can’t give her a smile, but he does feel his mouth quirk. He thinks of her rainbow nails. “Those are for you, sweetheart.”

She flushes. A small smile returns to her pretty face and Ben can’t help but drink down the sight of it, certain that it’ll give him sweet dreams later. He keeps his eyes on her until he’s forced to turn around, forced to push the door open and walk out into the cold night air.

And perhaps, if Ben Solo hadn’t been so exhausted, hadn’t been so entranced with the girl with the rainbow nails, then he would have noticed that he and the cashier hadn’t been alone. There had been someone else, someone who’d hidden away in the chips aisle as soon as they saw Ben walk inside, someone who’d watched Ben and the cashier’s exchange with deep, deep curiosity. And as Ben drives off into the night, this someone’s interest transforms into a plan.

**  
**NOW**  
**

Ben lowers his fucking gun.

Shit. Shit, shit, _shit_.

It’s barely been two days and already this girl has wandered back into his life in the most inconvenient way possible. He’s fantasized about meeting her again but fucking hell, not like this.

“Hurry the hell up, Solo,” Hux chokes out, beginning to look much paler than normal.

Ben makes the monumental error of glancing down at the girl’s hands, just to check, just to see—

Rainbow.

He whirls to his two comrades and points toward the door. “Out.” His voice comes out hoarser then he’d like but he doesn’t have time to care.

He needs to play this just right if he’s going to—

If he’s going to—

Actually, Ben has no idea what he’s going to do.

Hux is all too happy to rush back into the clear evening air, and Phasma follows him dutifully, but as soon as the only door to the cabin bangs closed, they both turn to him with frowns.

“What’s wrong?” Phasma asks directly. She sounds stern and professional, as always. He’s never seen her break a real sweat.

His mind is whirling, spitting out suggestions a mile a minute. The best lies start with the truth. “I know her,” he admits. Hux rolls his eyes and Phasma’s eyebrows shoot up into her bangs.

“Do you want me to do it?” The blonde holds out her hand for his weapon expectantly.

Ben shakes his head, relieved now that he’d removed his two coworkers from the cabin before saying anything. Hux opens his mouth to speak but Ben raises one lone finger, effectively cutting him off. “Let me talk to her…” He falters in his speech, but only briefly. “Let me convince her to give herself a good death.” 

He lets his meaning hang heavily in the cool mountain air.

Both Phasma and Hux look like they want to argue with him, but neither do. The smell of the vamp blood is making Hux too ill, and Phasma is entirely too by-the-book to argue with her superior. Ben opens the cabin door and stomps back inside before any of them, himself included, can change their mind.

The wooden door closes behind him and Ben hears Hux’s muffled voice tell Phasma that he’s going to wait in the care. Which is good. Hux’s supernatural hearing will not inconvenience Ben, considering what he’s about to do.

When he turns around he immediately notices that the girl is no longer in the kneeling position that Phasma had forced her into. She’s standing right before him and shit, Ben hadn’t heard her move _at all_. She’s a vamp now, he reminds himself sternly. He’ll need to—

Her murderous expression cuts off his train of thought. “I am _not_ going to kill myself—”

Ben presses his hand against her mouth, causing the girl’s hazel eyes to narrow in fury. She reaches toward his wrist and yanks, probably thinking to use her newfound strength to pry his hand away from her. He watches with a certain amount of dark pleasure as she stills, her narrowed eyes flicking up to his face and widening as realization finally dawns on her. That he is just as non-human as she is.

“I don’t want you to kill yourself,” he whispers into the charged space between them. Her mouth has gone still underneath his hand; she is no longer trying to speak. And yet, it still shocks him when her lips part and the tip of her tongue dashes out, tasting the skin of his palm.

He lets his hand drop, swallowing thickly.

“I don’t want you to kill yourself,” he repeats. “I want you to stay here. I’ll come back for you later, when I’m alone.”

He knows she’s heard him even though she gives no acknowledgement of his words. She simply stands there, right in front of him, with that same intense interest he’d seen on her two nights ago at the gas station.

She slides a step back, finally breaking her eyes away from him in order to sweep them over the cabin. She takes in the bodies of the other five vamps on the floor, takes in the way their blood is beginning to spread across the floorboards and seep into the already stained wood. Then she looks down at her shoes before rocking forward onto the balls of her feet with a pinched brow, evaluating the situation.

After what seems like forever, she exhales out a deep breath. In a blink she’s right in front of him again. “My name is Rey.” Her voice is so low and quiet the statement can barely be counted as a whisper. But she wants him to know her name. There’s an aching prick in his chest because of it.

His mouth quirks slightly upward. “I’m Ben.”

Then he shoots his last wooden bullet into the wall of the cabin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What up friends! This is a supposed-to-be 2,500 word commission that got way too out of hand. I think my brain just decided that it had wanted to write a vampire AU for years and this was the perfect opportunity to do so. I had absolutely no control or say in the matter.
> 
> All supernatural elements/mythology either made up in the shower or aggressively stolen from True Blood.
> 
> I want to know your thoughts and theories!
> 
> I have [twitter](https://twitter.com/LikeADove_) and a [dying tumblr](http://likeadove.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hello!


End file.
